Accidental Delivery
by AusllyxxRauraForever
Summary: Dallas has been diagnosed with pancreatic cancer, and he's slowly wasting away. But his Ally is by his side every day, loving him all the while. She sends him flowers one day, but, forgetting his room number, she accidentally sends them to a depressed Mr. Moon. If she can't help Dallas survive, maybe she can help this Mr. Moon.
1. Chapter 1

Pancreatic cancer.

That's what my Dallas has been diagnosed with. I sit by his bedside, caressing his hand. It's been about three months since he was diagnosed. I've done my research. Life expectancy? Three to six months after diagnosis.

He's always complaining that his back hurts. He's lost an extreme amount of weight. His skin and his eyes are turning a yellowish color. He vomits constantly. And he refuses to eat, so I'm not really sure what he's been throwing up.

It doesn't look good at all. He doesn't either. But he's still the beautiful boy I fell in love with. His family won't tell me anything about his state nor will the doctors but it's pretty easy to guess: He'll be dead within a month.

And I've known this for about three months. I've come to visit him every day. Actually, I practically live here, as of about a month ago. I barely ever leave his room, except to go to the food court and to go home to get a change of clothes. What sucks, though, is that my mom is making me come home and stay home for a night. She says I've been spending too much time at the hospital and all I'm doing is stressing myself out. I've spent one month of my summer in this hospital and she says it's not healthy. She wants me to come home and invite Trish over for a sleepover.

I'm going to send Dallas flowers tomorrow, to let him know I'm always thinking of him, even when we're not physically together.

In the morning, he's still asleep. I kiss him lightly on the cheek, tears welling up in my eyes, and slip out silently with my head down. I stare at my hand, which has Dallas's room number written on it. 302. I have a lot of trouble remembering his room number sometimes. Once, I went to room 202 by accident.

 _I ran into the room, ready to give Dallas the biggest hug ever. I slowed down when I saw that Dallas was not lying in his bed._

 _In his place was a boy about our age. He had dirty blond hair and vacant brown eyes. He stared straight up at the ceiling. I'm not even sure he noticed I was there. There were scars on his wrist. Some were red and angry, some were white and faded._

 _They were vertical, running up and down his arms._

 _His dirty blond hair was messy and hanging in his eyes and there was an awful smell coming from him. He was so thin that I could make out each and every one of his ribs, even through his gown. There was a tray of food next to his bed, completely untouched. I stared down at his lifeless-looking body, a look of horror probably obvious on my face._

 _I slowly backed out of the room._

I know, I know. I probably acted in the rudest way possible. But he didn't see me, I don't think. And I'll never see him again, I'm sure.

And in 402, there's an old man. His skin is as wrinkly as a prune and he's definitely dying. And soon.

As soon as I get home, I take a shower. I scrub myself clean before I call Trish and ask if she wants to come over tonight. She says yes and that she'll be over sometime this afternoon. I call the flower shop and order a bouquet of red roses and have them sent to his room. I also request a note to be attached that says, "I love you! Love, Als". There wasn't much I could think about to put on there, but hey, at least it's something.

I sit down on my bed and take my songbook out. I stare down at the blank page. Something wet falls onto the page, making a dark misshapen dot on it. I reach up gingerly to feel my face and, sure enough, I'm crying.

"Damn it, Dallas," I whisper, "sometimes I wish I could save you."

 _Sometimes I wish I could save you_

 _And there're so many things I want you to know_

 _I won't give up till it's over_

 _If it takes forever, I want you to know…_

* * *

Trish literally just sleeps over. She comes over, drops down onto my bed, asks me how Dallas is doing, and falls asleep waiting for my answer. I'm a bit thankful, because I really didn't want to talk. I just want to write, to relieve stress.

I think about the first time I went to see Dallas after his one-month-after-diagnosis mark. I was afraid he'd deteriorated over the night to just ashes and wisps of hair even though I had just seen him the night before.

" _Take a deep breath," I told myself. I pulled myself together. There was just another step till I reached the door. I slowly reached out my hand to open the door. Tears welled up and threatened to spill over my cheeks. I made my way inside._

 _His parents had just left to go get lunch, the seat nearest the bed was still warm. This was when they still visited. They stopped around two months after he was diagnosed. His mother went into hysterics every time she saw him. Screaming, crying, cursing the doctors for not making her little boy better. Possibly drove herself insane with worry. She started staying home, as she was rousing and worrying other patients on his floor. His dad stopped coming too after a week or so of being there alone with Dallas. He was self-destructing from the inside out. You could tell from the anguished look on his face._

 _I walked inside and sat down in the chair his mother had been in, the one beside the bed. I took his hand in mine and his eyes fluttered open. He was not deteriorating as I thought he would be. He looked exactly the same as he had the day before. He looked over at me and smiled. "Hey, baby," he said softly._

 _A single tear rolled down my cheek as I smiled back. I opened my mouth to reply but my throat had a lump stuck in it. I tried to swallow it but I just couldn't. His smile slowly turned into a sad one and he just held up his arms a little for a hug. I slowly stood up and gently hugged him around the neck. His arms closed around my waist and we both fit our heads into the crook of each other's necks._

 _My legs got tired after a few minutes but I didn't care. We stayed like that for the entire thirty minutes his parents were gone. We only pulled away when his dad cleared his throat. "D-Dallas, we're going to go home. We…" His dad sighed. "We love you and we'll come back first thing tomorrow." He nodded at me. "Ally."_

 _They gathered their things and left. You could hear his mother's sobs down the hall… and they weren't even as close to as bad as they were a little before she stopped coming. I inhaled, exhaled, staring at Dallas. He smiled at me, trying to make me believe that he's okay. But I knew he wasn't. None of his treatments were working. At all. Well, some worked, but they didn't work that well._

 _I looked down then back at Dallas. The lump in my throat is gone now. I said, "I wish that I could tell you something to take it all away."_

I look back down at my songbook and start writing.

 _Take a breath_

 _I pull myself together_

 _Just another step till I reach the door_

 _You'll never know the way it tears me up inside to see you_

 _I wish that I could tell you something_

 _To take it all away_

 _Sometimes I wish I could save you_

 _And there're so many things that I want you to know_

 _I won't give up till it's over_

 _If it takes you forever, I want you to know_

I swallow, close my book, and lie down next to Trish. I close my eyes and fall asleep, ready to go see Dallas in the morning.

* * *

I wake up, bright and early in the morning. I leave Trish a note, telling her I'm going to the hospital, and rush out the door. I reach the hospital and step through the double doors, heading for the elevator. I press the 3 button and ride the agonizingly slow box up to the third floor. I almost burst right out when the doors open.

I rush to his room and beam at his sleeping body. I look around then knit my eyebrows together in confusion. Where are my flowers?

I shrug and take my seat next to his bed. His eyes slowly flutter open. "Ally, baby, hey," he says weakly.

"Hey, Dallas," I say, smiling. It slowly turns into a frown. "Um, did you get the flowers I sent yesterday?"

He looks around. "Uh, no. Maybe they haven't gotten here yet?"

I shrug. "Well, it's breakfast time. Do you want me to get you something from the food court?"

"No, thanks, I'm not really… hungry… But you can get something." Dallas looks up at me and notices my face falling. "Um, actually, you know, I am a little hungry. Could you get me… a…" He seems to struggle to remember food. "Uh… a slice of bread, or two." I give him a look. "I'm not _that_ hungry, but it'll fill me up?"

I roll my eyes. Then I smile softly. At least he's making an effort, if not for himself then for me, to make me feel better. "All right, Dallas. I'll be right back," I say.

"I'll be here," he says with a wink. I smile at him, but it makes me sad right down to my soul. I kiss him on the cheek gently, feeling that if I put too much pressure on him, he'll cave in and fly away, one skin flake at the time. I turn away and frown, hurrying out the door. A nurse stops me as I close it behind me.

"Ms. Dawson?" she says.

I nod. "That's me. Oh, I meant to ask you—" But she doesn't seem to hear me.

"Mr. Moon wanted me to send his thanks for the flowers."

"The flowers? Oh, no, those were for—"

"And I thank you, too. He _really_ needed that pick-me-up. He seems a little happier since you sent them." And she walks away.

 **Hello, everyone! Sorry I haven't been on. But I can actually write at school now, because they issued everyone Macbooks, and I definitely plan on writing stories instead of taking notes, that's for sure. I'm sorry it's so short. I'm a little rusty. But favorite and follow and review and let me know if you like it or not! I'll try to continue other stories I haven't finished yet (I think there are two), but I might just focus on this one for now. I'm not sure. Anyhoodles, have a nice day!**

 **Love, Kenzie**


	2. Chapter 2

_Mr. Moon?_ I think. _Who is that?_ I shake my head and walk to the elevator. I press the button that will bring me down to the second floor and wait. When the doors slide open, I step out of the elevator and hesitate.

 _Mr. Moon… I wonder if he's on the floor just below or just above Dallas's room… Would they call him_ Mr. _Moon if he was our age? Maybe I sent the flowers to the old man's room above Dallas's by mistake…_

I shake my head to clear it and walk down the hall to the food court. I grab a styrofoam box and begin filling it with food, things Dallas might like along with his slices of bread. I pay for the food and leave the cafeteria. I stop in front of the elevator, press the button to go up, and wait. I glance down the hall just slightly and see 202. I'm pretty sure that's where "Mr. Moon" lives. Er, stays.

I clutch my tray of food in both hands and walk toward his room. As soon as I reach the door, I hear the ding that means the elevator has arrived. I stop in my tracks. I should go back to the elevator. It would be rude to call it like that and leave it hanging. I sigh and shake my head as the doors slide shut. I whisper a silent apology and turn back toward the door.

I reach my hand up to push the door open—

And two nurses rush past me. I squeak and lean against the wall, slightly frightened.

"Mr. Moon, drop the knife!" a nurse screams, and I imagine the other is trying to wrench it from his hands.

"Even if I drop this one, there are more hidden in the room! You'll never find them!" a weak, raspy voice says, and I assume it belongs to Mr. Moon.

I hear a sigh. "Take him to the isolation room, I'll search the room for more weapons," another nurse says, and she sounds disappointed. "Austin, we thought we could trust you in a normal room. You could've gone home in a couple of days. Now you have to start all over."

I hear wheels and step back, assuming "Austin" is being rolled out of the room. As he comes out of the room, pieces of his blanket soaked with blood, he looks up and locks eyes with me. "Als?" he asks, and reaches his arm out for me. Then he disappears down the hall and around a corner.

 _Als…_

* * *

I return to Dallas's room, his food tray still in my hands. He's asleep. He wouldn't have noticed I was gone for longer than I should have been. I breathe a sigh of relief, and sit down in my spot next to his bed. "Dallas," I say softly, shaking his shoulder gently. His eyes flutter open.

"Ally, where have you been? You were gone, like… forever," he tells me.

So much for him not noticing.

"There was a long line in the food court," I lie. He nods, believing it. "You hungry? I got your bread." I open the tray and take out the bread, trying to hand it to him.

He shakes his head. "No, thanks, I'm good," he says.

I give him a look. "If you don't eat this bread, I'll shove this other food down your throat." I narrow my eyes at him, and he takes the slice of bread from me.

"Thanks, Als," he says, taking little nibbles off the bread. I blink and think back to earlier. _Als…_ After a few minutes of awkward silence, he sets down the bread that doesn't even have a dent in it, and looks up at me. "I wanted to talk to you about something."

"What's up?" I ask him.

"Well… I think… maybe… you should stop coming to see me," he finally gets out.

I just look at him. "Um… what…?"

"I don't think you should come to see me at the hospital anymore," he tells me. "I don't want you to end up like my parents are. I know you're strong, and you think you won't end up like them, but… maybe you'll be like Dad. Silently wasting away from the inside out. I don't want that to happen to you, baby. I love you too much.

"So go home. Pretend I'm at college, which… I should be. So it shouldn't be that hard to pretend. Go home and live your life… even if it's with someone else."

I shake my head. "What? No. No, I'm not leaving you. I don't want to leave you for even a second. Last night was agony for me. I missed you so much. I was so afraid I'd come back and you'd be…" I hadn't even noticed but teardrops are racing their way down my cheeks silently. "But you won't be. You won't ever… You'll get better. You'll be okay. And then… And then… we'll 'll move away from Miami. We'll go far away from this hospital. We'll… We'll… We'll…"

My tears get the best of me and I start sobbing, gasping for air with a sopping wet face. "Dallas, please don't do this to me," I whisper.

He looks up at me and clears his throat. "I, um… thank you, Ally. I was… uh… testing your faith in me… Seems like, um… you really love me…" He gives me a smile. "Come here, give me a hug."

I rush into his arms, shaking my head vigorously. "Don't do that to me!" I exclaim.

"I'm sorry… I… I just want you to be happy…" he whispers, caressing my hair.

I'm horrified. "I am happy…" I whisper back.

"I just, I want you to have someone that can take you on romantic dates, sweep you off your feet, surprise you."

"I don't need that, I want _you_. And besides, I'll have that again someday. Right after you get better and get out of here."

He just sighs and I feel him nod against me. "Right. Right after I get out of here." He pushes me away from him slightly and kisses me, entwining his fingers in my hair. I place my hands on his shoulders, curling my fingers down around them gently. When we finally pull away, he smiles at me and I sit back down in my chair. "Did you figure out what happened to those flowers? I heard you talking to a nurse when you left here, but I couldn't make out any of the words.

"Oh! Um… yeah… I, uh, I don't think I ever actually sent them. Maybe I was just… too tired when I got home and dreamed I called the florist or something," I lie. I'm not sure why I'm lying, I just really don't want him to know about Mr. Moon. Er, Austin.

"Then what did the nurse want you for?"

"Um… She… wanted me to make sure you ate something. Which reminds me, eat your bread!" I say.

"Baby, you're acting weird," he tells me, slowly picking up his bread slice.

"How so?" I ask, cocking my head to the side.

"You… You're just…" He shakes his head. "Never mind."

There's a knock at the door. "Ms. Dawson?" A nurse pokes her head in. "Could you please come here a moment? We need your help."

"My help?" I ask. "I'll be right back," I say to Dallas, and leave the room with the nurse. "What's wrong? What's happening?" I ask, worry apparent in my tone.

"It's Austin. He needs you. He won't calm down. He keeps screaming, 'I want Als!'" she informs me, pulling me to the elevator.

"What? Why would he want me?" I ask, stepping into the elevator as the nurse pushes the button.

She looks at me, as if I should know. "Ms. Dawson, you are the only one that's been in contact with him in over a month. He's completely given up on his family. He was convinced no one cared about him at all. And then you sent him those flowers, saying you love him… There was light in his eyes after that. He drank an entire protein shake after he got those."

The elevator opens and she pulls me down the hall and around the corner, where I saw Austin's bed disappear. She gestures to a door with a small window in it. Glancing through it, I see the blond boy (whose name I now know is Austin) sitting cross-legged on a mattress on the floor. That's the only thing in the whole room. He's not strapped down, like I thought he'd be. But I guess that's only in the movies.

"You can go in," the nurse urges from beside me. I place my hand on the door knob, and push. The door slowly opens and, even though the door didn't make any noise, Austin looks up at me as if sensing my presence.

"Als," he says my nickname as if it gives him the air he needs to live.

"Hi… Austin…" I reply slowly.

He smiles at me. "You came…"

"Yeah, they told me you wouldn't calm down without me."

"You do care," he says to me.

"I, um, actually, those flowers…" Then I realize it would probably break his heart to know the flowers weren't meant for him, that I don't actually care about him, that I don't even know who he is. "... were supposed to come earlier. I'm not sure what happened."

"How do you—?" Then he closes his eyes, as if battling himself. "I'm sorry, I'm being rude. Please, have a seat." He moves a little further back on the mattress until his back is touching the wall and gestures to the other end. I slowly lower myself onto the mattress. "Anyway, how do you know who I am? I've never seen you before, Als."

"I actually came to your room once, a while ago. I don't think you saw me, but… I saw you. I've never met anyone with your… condition… before," I explain.

Austin laughs a little, the sound making me feel sad. "Oh, I highly doubt that. Most people are depressed, though they look really happy on the outside."

"Depressed? Is that something you can be hospitalized for?" I ask.

"Why do you think I'm here?" he says.

"Wait, you're depressed?" I say. I look him up and down. He looks kind of like Dallas, deteriorated. "You don't look depressed."

"You don't know much about depression, do you?" He holds up his wrists, and I remember the cuts on them. That's a sign of depression. I forgot about those. He points to one of the cuts. "This one's from when my dad told me I'd never make it in the music business." He points to another. "This one's from when the love of my life—or the girl I thought was the love of my life— left me for another guy I thought was my best friend. And this one—" He points to one that looks old but newer than the rest. "—This one's from when I saw you come into my room… and never come back."

"I—I made one of those?" I ask, feeling horrified with myself. "And you saw me?"

"Yeah, I saw you. As you ran out of the room, disgusted with me." He frowns, looking away from me. "I'm gross, aren't I? Ugly. Stupid. Worthless."

"Austin, no… No, no, no. You're… sweet. You're sweet, you know a lot about depression, I would think. You're pretty attractive, honestly, even with your hair all greasy from not being washed. And… well, I don't quite have an example of you not being worthless because I haven't known you that long, but I do know that no one is worthless. Not even you."

"Then why do people say I'm worthless?" he asks quietly.

"Because they're the stupid ones. Not you."

"Als, you're the first person to talk to me like a normal person in a long time. Some of the nurses talk to me as if I'm contagious. The others talk to me as if I'm a child that could self-destruct at the drop of a hat. When I was with my parents, they talked to me… well, like I was worthless. My friends talked to me like they were afraid of me. But you? You talk to me like I'm a regular person. Your equal."

"You are my equal, Austin. Depression does not make you less of a human being."

* * *

I don't come back for a few days. Well, I come back to see Dallas, but not Austin. When I got back to Dallas after seeing Austin and he asked why they needed my help, I just told him they thought they found my flowers, but weren't sure which ones were mine. It wasn't very believable, but Dallas believed it. Dallas believes everything nowadays.

I feel strange about seeing Austin. I almost feel like I'm cheating on Dallas with him. It just doesn't feel right.

I'm with Dallas now. He's nibbling on his bread again, but an ant would dwindle the bread down faster than Dallas would. He looks even worse than he did the other day. He always looks worse. I can't stop thinking about Austin though. It's not like it's in a romantic way or anything, it's just like… I'm worried about him. Hoping he's okay.

Something bad happened though. I have to leave the hospital every night now. My parents are worried about me. They didn't say that directly, they said they wanted me to work Sonic Boom every night so they could "relax". So I have to leave about an hour before sundown and waste time at the store, time I _could_ spend with Dallas, waiting for him to get better.

I don't know why I act like this. It's just that I feel like it will be miraculous and instantaneous. I feel like I'll just blink and boom, Dallas's face will be the right color, he'll have meat on his bones again, everything will be okay.

But I know that won't happen. Even if he does get better, it won't be instantaneous. It'll be a slow process for him to get better. I look at my watch and sigh.

"All right, it's time for me to go… I'll be back first thing tomorrow, I promise." I kiss his cheek and he smiles at me.

"I'll be here," he says, as he always does, but he doesn't sound as confident as he usually does. He doesn't sound like he really thinks he'll be here when I get back.

I hold back tears as I step into the hallway. I walk into the elevator and press the lobby button. The doors slide shut and the elevator begins to descend… but only one floor. The elevator doors slide open on the second floor. I cock my head to the side.

When no one enters the elevator, I reach out to press the door close button. "Hold that elevator!" someone shouts, and I hold my arm out to keep the door open. "I'll be back tomorrow!" the same person calls then rushes into the elevator. When they step in, I step out. I'm not sure what possessed me to do it, but I did it.

I walk slowly down the hall, clutching my bag close to me. I don't know why I'm so nervous but I am. I push his door open, walk inside, and scream.

Blood. There's so much blood. It's all over the bed, dripping onto the floors. _Why is his heart monitor alarm not going off? Why aren't the nurses already in here? WHERE ARE THE NURSES‽_

A few moments later, I realize I never screamed. My mouth just dropped open, and I was too shocked to scream. So I do now. " _Nurse! Help! Please!_ " I scream, my voice ragged. They rush inside.

"Mr. Moon‽ Austin! Austin, wake up!" Her voice turns serious. "Get him out of here. Now!" I flatten myself against the wall as they squeeze past me out into the hallway. I slide down the wall and hug my knees to my chest. _Why didn't I come here sooner?_

 **Well, that was a sucky chapter, I know, and I'm sorry. I know things with Austin are going pretty fast, and you're probably worried about who she'll spend more time with, and blah, blah, blah. Don't worry, guys. I got it. If you know me, you know who she'll end up with. How though? … A lot of you may know that as well, because I'm a very predictable writer. Anyhoodles, review!**

 **Love, Kenzie**


	3. Chapter 3

I sit in the chair beside where Austin's bed should be. His room looks just like Dallas's. The only difference is, well, Austin's room smells worse.

My mom called me an hour ago. I didn't answer. She left a voicemail. My parents are furious with me. They said I should've been at Sonic Boom at 5:30, and where the hell was I? They called Dallas's room and he didn't answer but a nurse did and the nurse said I'd left at five. Am I okay? Call them as soon as possible.

Every time I hear footsteps outside the door, I get excited and sit up straight in my chair. Then I slump back down in it when they pass. But this time, the footsteps stopped outside the door, opened it, and rolled Austin's bed inside. I smile brightly, but he's still sleeping. His hair is stuck to his forehead with sweat, and his arms are covered with thick bandages.

"Is he okay?" I ask eagerly.

The nurse nods. "He had a blood transfusion. He kept waking up and screaming and looking around frantically, probably for sharp objects. He was very upset he wasn't dead." She shakes her head sadly. "We had to give him heavy sedatives. He should wake up in a half an hour to an hour." She rolls Austin's bed back to its original place and hooks him back up. "Now, why didn't this alert us…" she trails off, looking all over the heart monitor. She turns a knob and it starts beeping with his heart beat.

Did Austin turn the volume down? Can you do that on a heart monitor…? I think I read in the newspaper about someone dying after they turned down the volume on his heart monitor.

That's such a stupid feature. You shouldn't be able to turn down the volume on one of those things. You need to know when someone's heart rate is rising, or lowering, as it could be important.

I groan out loud and the nurse looks up at me. "Um, he'll be fine, Ms. Moon."

"Ms. Moon?" I say. "No, no, my last name is Dawson."

"Oh, I'm sorry, I thought you were a relative finally coming to visit. I'm sorry, it must be awful for you, knowing your boyfriend is in here, trying to kill himself every other day. But he'll get better, I'm sure of it," she says, then leaves the room.

 _Boyfriend?_

No. Dallas is my boyfriend, not Austin. I roll my eyes and lean back in the chair, waiting for Austin to wake up.

When he finally does wake up, he's very groggy. "Als," he murmurs after staring at me for a minute or two, probably waiting for me to come into focus. "What happened? What time is it?"

I swallow. "You cut yourself… really deep. I don't know why, or how. I got here probably around the time you passed out. You'd turned down the volume on the heart monitor so that…" … _they wouldn't try to save you as you died…_ "So that they wouldn't hear your heart rate go up. You… Your sheets…" I look down and see that they've been changed, and they're just as white as the bandages on his arms. "Your sheets were filled with blood… I don't know how much you lost, but you had to have a blood transfusion. And you kept waking up during it, they told me, and screaming, you were upset you weren't dead. Then you'd pass out again. I…" I look down at my watch. "It's 7:15." Wow, I've been sitting here for two hours?

Everything seems to come rushing back to him as his mouth twists into a sad frown. It turns into an angry frown in no time. "No one was supposed to find me until it was too late to do anything. Why the _hell_ would you come back _right then_ ‽ Why would you come back then if you didn't care to come back before?" He's shouting, and it's scary. Oh, my God… I think he tried to kill himself because I didn't come back… because he thought I didn't care about him...

Tears jump into my eyes. "Austin, I…" But I don't know what to say. I didn't want to come back because of Dallas, because I felt like it would be cheating. But I can't tell Austin that… can I? "I'm sorry, I didn't… I don't know why I didn't come back. I guess I just… didn't realize how much you needed me…"

Austin leans up onto his elbow, careful not to disturb any of the wires stuck to him, so he can look into my eyes. "Als… I need you so much… You're the only one who cares about me… You care about me… don't you?"

I find myself nodding before I can stop myself. I place my hand over his. "Of course I do." And I realize that I do. I care about him a lot. I want him to get better. I want him out of this stupid hospital. He doesn't belong here. He belongs with me!

I mean… he belongs at home… or somewhere. Not with me. I belong with Dallas…

"Are you going to leave me again? I didn't realize how much I missed you until I met you." He looks down at our hands and shivers a bit, closing his eyes. "I didn't realize how lonely I was and how much I missed human contact." He turns his hand over and squeezes mine. He opens his eyes and looks up at me, smiling in a goofy, joking way. "The nurses don't count. They're robots."

"Well, I'm glad I could help," I tell him, giggling a bit.

"You have such a beautiful laugh," he says longingly. I suddenly snatch my hand away and stand, forcing his smile back into a frown.

"I'm sorry, I… I have to get home. My mom called me a few hours ago when you… weren't here, and she was furious with me. I just wanted to make sure you were all right before I left."

"Well, wasn't that sweet?" he says jokingly, his smile returning. I mentally breathe a sigh of relief, happy that I could bring his smile back. "Nurse!" he calls suddenly. "I need a protein shake! Stat!" We both laugh, and the nurse hurries in moments later.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Austin," I say, and I mean it.

The next day, after coming home to a long lecture and hugs and "I was so worried about you!"s and falling into bed, I arrive back at the hospital, ready to see Dallas.

And Austin.

"Hey!" I say, walking into the room. Dallas is watching TV, almost awkwardly. We haven't turned the TV on in a long time. On the screen, there's a couple kissing in the rain.

He looks at me, his returned smile saying "Help me!"

"What's with the TV?" I ask him, stepping further into the room.

"The nurse said it might make me feel better, make the room feel less depressing," he tells me. It feels like someone stabs my chest when he says "depressing". "Please turn it off," he says in a quiet voice. Then he grins at me. "Or at least turn it to something with hot, half-naked chicks and fast cars."

I roll my eyes, smiling back and sitting down in the chair. I gesture for Dallas to be quiet, and after a few moments, I say loudly, "Ugh, Dallas, there's nothing on. Do you mind if I turn the TV off?"

He mouths "Thank you" at me while clasping his hands together as if he's praising Jesus, then he says out loud, "Oh, I suppose you could."

I reach over him to pick up the remote, which was suspiciously just out of his reach, and I turn the TV off. "So when did you wake up?" I ask him. He's usually still asleep, or just waking up, when I get here.

"Maybe about thirty minutes ago. They had to inject me with something," he tells me. "And they had to make sure it was before I ate." He laughs bitterly to himself.

I frown. "Um, speaking of, are you hungry? Do you want something to eat?"

He sighs. It seems today he just doesn't feel like humoring me. "No, Ally, I'm not. The thought of eating kind of makes me feel sick…" He was looking down as he said this, probably avoiding my eyes, but now he looks up at me. "What about you? Are you hungry? You can go get something from the cafeteria if you want. You can bring me back a bottle of water… if you want." He gives me a half-smile.

"O-Okay, Dallas, I'll be back soon. Why don't you go back to sleep? You usually aren't up that early. He nods, closing his eyes. I kiss his forehead and slip silently out of the room and into the elevator, riding it down to the second floor. I step out and instead of turning left, I turn right and walk down to Austin's room.

"Als!" he says, as soon as I walk in. He seems to be glowing today, happy as can be. "I showered for you!" He flips his hair and it just _looks_ less oily. He holds up his arm. "Sniff my armpit! It smells good!"

I laugh and go over to the chair beside his bed. "I'm not sniffing your armpit, Austin. I'll take your word for it."

"They think I can go home in a week or so!" he tells me excitedly. "They're gonna find me an antidepressant that works well for me and send me home!"

"Oh, my God! That's great news!" I tell him, and I stand up and hug him. I pull back and smile at him. "Your hair smells great, by the way." I sit down.

"Thanks! So how are you today?"

My mind flashes to Dallas for a moment. He has absolutely no appetite. Wouldn't even accept a breadcrumb the size of a flea. I plaster back on a smile. "I'm great, and even better since you're getting better." It almost feels as though by making Austin better, I'm killing Dallas…

No. That couldn't be possible. Dallas hasn't had much of an appetite for days. He's just been nibbling on the bread, and… not even nibbling on the bread! Just pretending to nibble on the bread!

No. Dallas is… the same as ever. The same as ever…

A single bread roll rests on a plate on the table next to his bed. "You're eating," I say with a wide smile.

"Yeah! Food doesn't seem so disgusting to me anymore," he says, taking a small bite from it. It's progress. Better than Dallas is doing.

But not, like, better than Dallas. His well-being may be better than Dallas, but he's not… better… than Dallas. I mentally shake my head and look up at Austin again. "So, what are you gonna do when you finally get out of here?"

Austin suddenly frowns. "I… I don't know. It's not like my parents will come get me."

"I could drive you home," I offer.

He shakes his head. "No, Als, that's not the point. The point is that they won't _want_ me there. I won't be able to stay with them. And all my friends abandoned me when I was hospitalized. The rest of my family is on the other side of the country and I don't have the money to get there. And I don't have their phone numbers to help me out with that. I have nowhere to go." He slumps back in his bed and drops his bread roll back onto the plate.

"You… You don't have _any_ family around here?" I ask him, trying to think of a solution.

"No. Just my parents." He sighs and stares out the window. "I guess I'll just live under a bridge somewhere. Or under the pier at the beach." In my mind, I imagine him decaying and withering away all over again. Under a pier where people could get to him, beat him up, maybe even kill him.

"I think you're overreacting, Austin. I mean, they're paying your hospital bills, aren't they? I'm sure they'll take you back in once you're all better."

Austin started laughing around the middle of my statements. "They're not paying my hospital bills. My grandma started a college fund when I was born and gave it to my parents to manage when she died. They never put money in it, and they're using it now to pay my bills."

"That's awful! What if you wanted to go to college?"

"College?" Austin rests his head on his pillow and closes his eyes. "I'm too dumb for college." He exhales slowly.

When he finishes exhaling, I say, "Austin, don't say that, you're—"

He suddenly lets out a snore. I sigh and stand up. I should be getting back to Dallas anyway. I brush Austin's hair out of his face and, before I can think, I swoop down and kiss his forehead gently. I gasp at my own action and hurry out of the room.

 **Seems like I'm always making excuses for my absence in these author's notes… and here's another one. I'm a super lazy buttface and I just haven't felt like writing. I know you've heard this a billion times before, but I'm gonna try to try to change that. I'll try to write more often.**

 **Sorry if I don't…**

 **Love, Kenzie**


	4. Chapter 4

Over the next few days, I spend lots of time with both Austin and Dallas. They both sleep a fair amount so it isn't that hard. I go to Dallas first thing in the morning, spend some time with him, then he falls asleep. Then I go to Austin and spend time with him until he falls asleep. Then I go back to Dallas and so on.

Neither of them have figured out that I'm seeing the other yet. Ugh, that makes me feel awful, saying that. I feel like I'm cheating on Dallas. But I'm not dating Austin or anything, it's just like… spending time with a best friend… who's in the hospital.

Anyway, it's Wednesday morning, and I'm on the way to see Austin first. I've been switching up who I see first. Today, it's Austin's turn. I step into the room and he's still fast asleep. I don't want to wake him up, he looks so peaceful. I'm sure Dallas is awake already. I suppose I can switch up my system for one day. I'll just come see Austin first tomorrow. I leave the room and head to the elevator, riding it up to the floor above.

I walk down to Dallas's room and step inside. Huh, he's still asleep, too. Well, I can wake him up. I'm sure he's slept enough. I set my bag down in the chair next to his bed and shake his shoulder gently. He doesn't stir. "Dallas," I coo in his ear. Again, he doesn't move. I notice his bed is wet around his waist. Did he pee himself?

I glance back at his heart monitor, where the line is still rising and falling. "Dallas," I say again, worry apparent in my tone now. I brush his hair out of his face and a clump comes out in my fingers. He's cold to the touch… as if he's already dead. But he's not, his heart monitor would be flatlining. And he wouldn't die anyway. He's not leaving me. Why would he leave me? We love each other too much for him to die on me.

"Dallas… Dallas, please, wake up…" I whisper. I move away from him slowly then hurry to the nurse's station. "Nurse, please, Dallas won't wake up, you have to help!"

She exhales slowly, reaches across the counter, and takes my hands in hers. "Sweetheart… when people with his condition… start to go… they sometimes… fall asleep… until they—"

And I hear it. The flatlining noise coming from Dallas's room. "No…" I say. I snatch my hands out of the nurse's hands and rush into his room. I stare at him, eyes filling with tears. I see no rise and fall of his chest. " _No!_ " I scream. " _Dallas!_ They can't take you from me!" I climb into his bed, careful not to put too much weight on him, and I wrap my arms around his neck.

More nurses rush into the room, and try to pull me off of Dallas. "Ms. Dawson, let him go. Ms. Dawson!" one yells. But I ignore them and sob into Dallas's chest.

"Dallas… please wake up…" I whisper.

* * *

They finally got me off of Dallas and sat me down in the chair, then wheeled Dallas's bed out of the room. I've been sitting here silently for the past hour, staring straight ahead. There's a knock on the door. "Ms. Dawson." A nurse enters the room. "Um, before Dallas… left, he wrote you a note. He wanted me to give this to you after he…" She just places the folded-up piece of paper on the arm of the chair and leaves the room. I don't know how much time passes before I pick up the note and read it:

 _Als,_

 _If you're reading this, I'm already gone. I can feel myself fading. I want you to know, this isn't your fault at all. You're going to blame yourself, but it's not your fault. The nurses told me how you had been seeing the guy in the room below me. And I want to tell you that it's okay. I wanted you to move on from me anyway. You may think that, by seeing him, you killed me, but I need you to understand that that is definitely not the case._

 _Please, Ally, create a life with him. I hope he can sweep you off your feet and romance you. I hope he makes you happier than I ever could sitting in this stupid hospital bed. I hope he molds you back into the girl you used to be. I love you, Ally-Cat, with all of my heart, and I always will, and I know you'll always love me, too. But you need to love Austin, too, more than you loved me._

 _Have a great life, baby, I'm sorry for holding you back._

 _Love, Dallas_

I fold the note back up and shove it in my pocket. I swallow back new tears that had begun to flow and stand, walking to the elevator and riding it down to the second floor. I feel like a zombie as I walk to Austin's room. "Hey, Als! Where ya been?" he says excitedly as I slump down in the chair beside his bed. "What's wrong?" he asks me, sensing my sadness.

"He's dead," I murmur.

"Who's dead, Als?"

"Austin, did you ever wonder why I was at the hospital in the first place?" I ask. I sigh. "Those flowers I sent you… They were for my boyfriend, Dallas. He had pancreatic cancer." God, I just want to shrivel up and die… just like Dallas did… "They were sent to you by mistake. I—"

"So you didn't care about me," Austin concludes.

"To be honest?" I sigh. "No…" I look up and the look on his face is heart-wrenching. I stand up and take his hands in mine. "Not at first, anyway. I do now, though." He snatches his hands away.

"Save it, Als. Just get out."

"But Austin, you don't understand—"

"I don't understand? You lied to me, Als. You made me feel like you cared about me. You made me feel wanted, you—"

I suddenly lean forward and kiss him tenderly. He feels weak and strong all at the same time. It feels nice. I pull away after a few more moments and smile at him hopefully. He stares at me blankly, mouth hanging open slightly. "Als…"

"I care about Dallas, Austin, a lot, and I always will. But I care about you, too. Let me prove it. Have you ever heard of Sonic Boom?"

"The music shop at the mall? Of course, I… wasted my money on all of my instruments there," he says, sounding sad but excited.

"Wasted?" I ask. All of our instruments are pretty top quality, they shouldn't have broken or messed up.

"Yeah… About a month before they shoved me in the hospital, my parents threw all of my instruments away… sold them…" he says, frowning.

I frown, too. Instruments are my life, maybe they're Austin's, too. I would die if anyone threw my instruments away. I shake my head, clearing the thought. "Well, above Sonic Boom, I have a practice room. It's where I practice singing and playing all of my songs. You—"

"Wait, you write songs?" Austin asks me.

I nod. "Yeah, I love writing. Anyway, there's a pull-out couch up there. You could stay there for a while, and after the store closes, you could go downstairs and play all the instruments you wanted. As long as you don't break them. You break it, you buy it," I tell him with a wink.

"Als, are you sure? I wouldn't want to get in the way…"

"You wouldn't be in the way, I swear. No one goes to my practice room but me. When it's not my shift, I could come up there and hang out with you. I could write songs, and you could perform them. You could get famous! Maybe it would keep you happy." I smile at him.

"That… That sounds perfect, Als!" he exclaims. I lean down and hug him and he hugs me back hard.

"When I go home tonight, I'll ask my dad. I doubt he'll say no, I hardly ask for anything."

"Oh, gosh, Als—"

"Oh, also, my name is Ally. Als is just a nickname… Well, so is Ally, but Ally is what everyone calls me." I smile at him.

"I'm sorry, that's just what you wrote on the card, I didn't—"

"It's okay," I tell him, kissing his cheek. "You can call me Als all you want. I just wanted you to know my name was Ally." I giggle a little.

"Anyways, as I was saying, oh, gosh, _Ally_ , you have honestly made me the happiest guy in the world. This is the happiest I've been in a very long time. Even if he says no, the gesture is all that matters." He smiles at me, looking almost like he might cry.

I shake my head. "He won't say no, Austin, trust me." Then I grab his face, one hand on each cheek, and kiss him hard. Dallas was right. I'll always love him… but I could definitely learn to love this little goofball in front of me.

 **Sorry it's been forever. No excuses from me this time. I've had my MacBook for about a week and a half now (well, really, from the third, but I left it at my boyfriend's house and didn't get it back until school started because I kept forgetting it and blah, blah, blah) but I just haven't written. However, in my creative writing class (which I am so excited to finally have), we're allowed to use our MacBooks to write now. We couldn't at first because a lot of the freshmen didn't have laptops yet, and the teacher didn't think it would be fair for us to type our stories while they had to write. Anyway, we can now use our MacBooks to write and if I finish early (which I usually do), I can get on Google Docs and finish up some chapters! Woot woot! I'll try to post more often, and I know I say that a lot, but I literally have a class dedicated to writing stories (*screams excitedly because story-writing*) so I'm sure I'll be able to get** _ **some**_ **writing in! I know it's short but I was really excited to post it, so here you go! Review please!**

 **Love, Kenzie**


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